I wake to the insistent sound of my alarm and, after a few seconds of daze, sit up in bed. I head to the bathroom for a shower, letting the lukewarm water clear my mind.

Afterwards, I dress in the outfit I chose the night before: a blue satin skirt with a matching jacket, a white blouse, and beautiful shoes to match. I let down my long blonde hair and apply simple makeup to enhance my features. I look at myself in the mirror, satisfied with the result.

I grab my handbag and résumé and head downstairs to the dining room for breakfast.

When I arrive, I’m surprised to find Alexander seated at the table, dressed in a flawless office suit that hugs his body and emphasizes his muscles. He gives me a full-body, scrutinizing look but remains silent. I ignore him and take the seat farthest away, quickly finishing my meal.

When I’m done, I say goodbye to Mary and hurry out of the mansion.

As I reach the main road, a car pulls up beside me. I immediately recognize the driver—it’s the mansion’s chauffeur. He rolls down the window and offers me a polite smile.

“Madam, please—get in. I’ll take you where you need to go,” he says courteously.

“No, thank you. I’m close by. I’ll take a taxi,” I reply kindly—but my glance meets a pair of cold eyes watching me from the backseat.

It’s Alexander.

I ignore him and continue walking to the road, where I flag down a taxi and get in without hesitation.

---

“Butler,” Alexander said from the back of his BMW. “I want you to track where my wife is going.”

The taxi stops in front of an imposing twenty-story building. I pay the driver and hurry inside, enchanted by its sophisticated, modern décor. I approach the reception desk, where a tall woman with brown skin and dark hair greets me with a professional smile.

“Good morning. I’m here for a job interview—Mr. Colleman is expecting me,” I say.

She nods and leads me to an elevator up to the top floor. We arrive before a pair of large wooden doors.

I take a deep breath and knock softly.

“Come in,” a monotone voice calls.

My heart pounding, I enter the office and shiver as the cool air brushes my skin. Behind the desk, a blond-haired man lifts his steely-bluish eyes and sizes me up. He swallows before standing and extending his hand.

“Welcome, Miss… Aslin Ventura?”

I nod.

“Yes, Mr. Colleman. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He smiles kindly and invites me to sit. I hand him my résumé, and as he scans it, surprise transforms his expression.

“Wow! I see you’re very talented. Your designs are excellent. With this portfolio, you could apply to a larger firm—like Corporativo Líbano. They wouldn’t hesitate to hire you.”

My face flushes, but I maintain composure.

The last thing I want is anyone placing me in the Líbano circle again.

“No, sir. Believe me, I'm happy to work here. I have no need to apply elsewhere,” I respond with a measured smile.

He nods.

“Great. Then, Ms. Ventura, it will be my pleasure to have you join the company.”

“Does that mean I’m hired?” I ask incredulously.

“Of course. And not just that—you’re in luck: you’ll be the new Director of the Design Department.”

My heart leaps with joy.

“Are you sure? I don’t even have experience in such a position.”

“Experience is secondary. Talent is what truly matters,” he replies confidently.

His answer reassures me. He picks up the phone and dials. Minutes later, the receptionist enters the office.

“Katia, please show Miss Ventura to the design department.”

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Colleman,” I say as I shake his hand.

“Call me Erick. Veronica’s friends are my friends.”

I leave the office and follow Katia to the elevator. She presses the button for the 15th floor. As we arrive, I notice people glancing at me, whispering.

“Miss, this will be your office. And congratulations again on the position,” Katia explains before leaving.

Inside, I see a black-haired woman packing up her things into boxes. Her gaze is cold and hostile. Without saying a word, she walks away.

I don’t know who she is or why she hates me, but I decide to ignore her and take in the office. It’s spacious, with a beautiful view of the city. With a few small adjustments, it’ll be perfect.

Minutes later, someone knocks gently on the door.

“Come in.”

A friendly young woman enters, smiling.

“Ms. Ventura, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name’s Filiz—I'll be your secretary.”

“The pleasure is mine, Filiz. I trust in you. I know we’ll make a great team,” I reply warmly.

Filiz blushes and smiles.

“I’m glad they made you director. Roxana, the previous one, made things difficult for everyone.”

“Roxana? Was she the woman packing earlier?” I ask, intrigued.

“Yes, ma’am. She was a secretary, like me, but Mr. Colleman made her acting director. I guess she got used to the position and didn’t expect it to be taken away so quickly.”

Now I understand her hostility.

“Thanks for the info, Filiz. You can go now.”

The rest of the day is spent familiarizing myself with responsibilities and reviewing designs due for delivery that week.

Late afternoon arrives; I gather my handbag and leave the office. Outside, the rain is pouring. I stand at the curb, seeking a taxi, but not one stops after twenty minutes.

Suddenly, a red Ferrari pulls up in front of me.

The window rolls down, revealing Erick driving.

“Ms. Ventura, what are you doing here in the rain?” he asks, surprised.

“I couldn’t find a cab,” I reply, covering my face with my hands.

“Come on—get in. I’ll drive you home.”

I hesitate, but accept. The ride is quiet until the imposing mansion comes into view.

“You live here?” Erick asks, astonished.

“Temporarily. Thank you so much for dropping me off. See you tomorrow at work.”

I exit the car quickly and walk toward the entrance.

No sooner have I crossed the threshold than a strong hand yanks me by the arm, slamming me against the door.

I gasp as I feel rapid breathing near my ear.

I raise my eyes and find Alexander’s face, his cold eyes burning with rage.